To open 5ive, the poet Alhanislam recites a spoken-word commentary on the album and the man behind it. It feels a little pretentious, rooted in the same idea that drives artists to label every new project their deepest and most personal work yet. Yet some of it does have grounding in real-life events. Alhanislam hails him as a “colossus of sound and spirit” and “a phoenix reborn”; a reminder of a time in his life when Davido suffered great grief that threatened to disrupt his career, perhaps permanently. This album is not the direct product of that rebirth, however—that was Timeless, his invigorating 2023 release that not only affirmed his stature but propelled him even further.
Two years later, Davido’s reprise finds him in a much more comfortable place, and he is more thankful and exuberant. He has spent a fourteen year career oscillating between phases of consolidation and attempted evolution, caught in the loop of his own inconsistency. Omo Baba Olowo: The Genesis brimmed with teenage promise, before Son Of Mercy exchanged authenticity for international appeal and failed at both. So A Good Time brought him back to basics, which in his case meant Pon-Pon love songs and exuberant, indigenous music, but its sequel, A Better Time, again attempted a crossover mandate and staggered under its weight. Timeless was a second reset, and with its focus on local sounds and voices, Davido accrued some of his biggest milestones yet, in streaming figures and grammy nominations.
With 5ive, Davido takes a cautious step forward. The music here is noticeably more robust and multicultural than on Timeless, but he blends everything into a uniquely Nigerian perspective. He’s invited guests from the UK, France, Jamaica and especially the US, but unlike before he’s limited genres to Afropop, Amapiano and the occasional forays into Dancehall and Latin Pop, steering clear of unfamiliar territory like Rap. The result is an album that can be disjointed at times, but is always flavourful and positive, similar to the artist himself. His focus ultimately revolves around two topics: women, and the consideration of his current status and anonymous adversaries.
He opens the album with the latter, with the songs Anything and Be There Still that chronograph his headspace: he’s been in the top tier of Nigerian Pop for a decade and a half—for as long as he’s been a singer, really—and yet as he assures on the latter track, whenever the opportunity presents itself to expand his reach even further or secure a new stream of income, he “will be there still.” This approach to opening 5ive mirrors Timeless. There OVER DEM began things in triumphalism; declaring himself supreme over enemies, rehashing the David vs Goliath narrative he relies on a little too often, and reinforcing his business acumen with a product placement for Martell. Anything fulfils all of these roles, and it does so without being a tired retelling, incorporating fresh language—“People talk, people talk, but nobody fit fill my position”—and a generous use of log drums for an Amapiano-like effect.
Still, for all his intention to present this album as a crescendo of artistic evolution contained within a significant milestone, it does sully his messaging considerably that 5ive devotes most of its focus to women and sex—common for Nigerian Pop albums, but perhaps underhanded for an album that marketed itself seriously. Davido is every bit the luscious fellow we know him to be, even when he inadvertently wanders into unrefined lingo — “Say this your body make me wan go gyrate… orobo 10 kilo,” he intones on 10 Kilo. Awuke opens with his signature hilarity—“I must tell my mummy for you”—before setting up one of the best and most percussive songs on the album. On Funds, another prereleased single, Odumodublvck and Davido wax lyrical on the memorable chorus—“All I wanna do is/ Mismanage my funds on you.” They ring with equal parts charm, realism and humour, the staple of Davido’s music. Still, not all of his language is original, and it grows mildly annoying to see him reach for low-hanging lyrics like “Blow my oblongata,” or “na you dey ginger me,” lines reheated so many times that they have lost their flavour.
5ive aims to entertain first before providing thematic depth. It prevents the album from becoming the timeless record its ambition hints at but never achieves. Yet, free of that obligation, Davido can operate from a place of authenticity, at least most of the time. When he does attempt more serious messaging, however, like on the Chris Brown-assisted Titanium, he reads like a generic motivational poster: “I’ve been through the fire/ I’ve been through the flames/ Came out like a diamond.” It doesn’t help that “titanium” is an especially common metaphor for strength and durability, or that his guest star is not nearly as sharp as he often is on Nigerian tracks. In comparison, Nuttin dey, the track that precedes it, has Davido express the same sentiments in more relatable language: “Man no be God, oh/ Say man be God, my own for don finish, oh…Beware of them bad people…I dey enjoy life I’m unshakeable”.
To fulfil his cross-cultural agenda, Davido enlists specialists from across the globe, this time nailing both the recruitment and execution that A Better Time tumbled on. Too much, in fact, that a combination of their talent and familiarity with the genres bring the unintended effect of making Davido second best on a few of his own songs. Omah Lay and frequent collaborator Tempoe coat With You in a soft haze reminiscent of the brilliant Boy Alone, while Shenseea is a standout on the Dancehall number RnB, delivering an excellent verse after Davido had offered a bland chorus. The sensual Offa Me and the latin-leaning Tek place Davido opposite the other female vocalists on the album—Victoria Monét and Becky G, respectively—and he finds decent chemistry with both. Lover Boy has 1da Banton provide some of the album’s finest production, as Davido recounts a version of romance grounded in the real events of his recent marriage: “Back then I be baddest boy/ I got so many girls in my area/ Now you don hold me for work, I be lover boy.” Davido’s ability to hold his own across a range of genres and collaborators crucially gives the album a somewhat unified feel that could easily have been lost.
There’s a lighthearted, free flowing breeze 5ive floats on, and it’s why Davido remains one of the few artists who can still hold on to Amapiano and find sonic success with it—the beat-heavy genre is a natural expression of his exuberant side. The South African producer Marvey Muzique provides tinges of the genre for Awuke, Holy Water and Be There Still (in collaboration with other producers), but even when log drums do not feature, the album finds ways to stay lively—whether through vibrant instruments or catchphrases Davido belts at intervals—”Who dey breathe?” Or “Shekpe!.” Davido is in a happy, unbothered place arriving at this fifth album, and it reflects in every song.
Ultimately, anyone’s takeaway from 5ive will vary according to preconceived expectations. Davido does not do himself many favours starting off on the serious, transcendental note as delivered by Alhanislam, but it is just as well that he does not continue on it, because Davido’s strengths have never been in his narrative artistry, but in spreading his signature infectious vibe in song. With thirteen different artists, twenty producers and more than a few genres, 5ive lands as more of a mixtape of great songs than a storied album, but it shines in presenting Davido’s multicultural palette without losing any of his iconic vibe.
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